The Year is 1983
by ForeverSummerSnows
Summary: The earth was being wiped of life for the first time since the great flood, and one man had one message for the people that spawned from the chaos. In today's world people lived in districts, and their survival depended on the pact under which they contracted the terms. A dusty old crow discovered the message from 1983 and has now set the tide in motion. CURRENTLY REWRITING
1. Chapter 1 - Before the Beginning

**An impossible crossover across worlds. In an alternate universe, to avoid the cringes of poorly told tales. A promise for a tale never told before. FMA Brotherhood x RWBY x Generator-Rex x LOA. The year is 1983, when the world fell to the despair of the deities that would alter the fabric of existence, give rise to a broken realm where mankind is subject to challenges the world before then never faced. No pairings yet, prepare to be blown away.**

Prologue

_The year is 1983._

The man wiped the stone with the sleeve of his tattered lab-coat. Once white and warm, was now a grimy, earthen color and the threads of fabric worn into little more than fine, ready-to-tear clothing – at least where there were no gaping holes.

One madwoman had done it. One madwoman had finally stirred the wrath of the gods, and existence, as it was known, was being torn to shreds. His hand shook and the stone slate he held trembled with them.

Wan Fan was a simple man.

Well… perhaps "simple" did not really describe a man of science with an insatiable desire for knowledge and a drive to unearth the world's greatest mysteries. His discoveries had broken the barriers of established scientific laws and brought the dawn of a new age to the forefront of tomorrow.

Except, he knew now, that tomorrow would never come. With this knowledge, he realized that at that moment, all he could be was a simple man. A simple, desperate man.

Even as fire and hail rained down on the rest of the world, Wan Fan had all of his will propelling him to his final acts before he and all of mankind would perish. But all that drive was not to preserve his work, nor his creations. None of that mattered, he knew. It never would.

He was preserving a message for the future.

Somehow, in what seemed to be the final dying moments of humanity, he knew that this was not the end. For him and everyone who was still breathing, yes. Tomorrow would never come for them, but man would have a chance to thrive again. Tomorrow belonged to them.

_The year is 1983._

That was the only message in his head that the occupants of the otherworldly realm had given him. He chuckled dryly as he staggered around the re-enforced basement of his 44 story-laboratory, scatterbrained in his search to find something that would survive the chaos. The bunker-basement was the only thing that stood between him and the end as the world knew it, and even then it was fast giving way to the cruel elements of destruction. The ground shook below him as he desperately searched for something that would preserve the easily perishable stone tablet in his hand, where he had burned the prophetic information with a blow torch. He had to preserve the message that had been given to him by his newly recognized deities. Never in his forty years did he believe in the concepts of gods, yet he became their chosen oracle for a future that seemed non-existent at the brink of an apocalypse – the irony of it all was amusing. He had no idea what the message meant, but at the moment the revelation came to him he had realized that it didn't matter. The message was not for anyone who was on the surface of the earth at that moment. They had no concern for it, only their end.

Their end brought about by a madwoman.

The ground below him started to tear open, and the scientist had the good sense to dive to the side as the floor broke itself apart. Wan Fan swore loudly and cursed the beings who tasked him with this. As one who knew there was no escaping the end, all he wanted to do was lie down and wait to die. But the burden of ensuring this message was preserved filled him with anxiety. Nothing in his bunker would last through long enough for life to restart before decomposing – assuming it somehow survived the ensuing chaos; knowing this made the poor scientist restless.

'This should not matter to me! I have no business with what the future holds when my own demise is so eminent! But yet you have made me restless and unable to accept death until I ensure this message will reach the future!' he spat on the ground as it shook and broke apart, struggling to find a relatively safe footing away from the walls that started to tear apart also. Low rumblings of the chaos outside quickly rose in volumes once the soundproof barrier was pierced, and between the screams of people and the sound of thunder as giant hail struck against the ground, the man's bones chilled. He cursed again. 'If I was a layman I would be quite content with letting this stone stay on the ground and accept death, believing it would stand the test of time. But I'm a man of science! I know there's no way your message will survive through this disaster or through time, not on anything in this bloody room! Let me survive as the last one to preserve this bloody message, or you better damn well make me an alchemist who will be able to turn this thing into something durable enough damn you!'

His body felt as though he was consumed by fire even before his final words – of a morbid sarcastic humor mind you – left his mouth and he roared in agony. The ceiling began to fall apart as the building crumbled under the weight of natural disasters, and he shook violently, fearing he had angered the deities he had just scorned. His eyes felt as though they were burning, glowing with blinding white light.

…

_The year is 1983._

He paused. Then added something beneath it.

_The witch is Salem._

…

_**MOMENTS IN HISTORY - 1 **_

The Advent.

That was what history called it. That point in time's past beyond which no historian or scientist could provide answers, the null and void, the forgotten, the erased, the dawn of being, the beginning. The names were endless for that point in the timeline of their existence. Man was born from the Advent, life to walk the earth that was birthed before him. He was born into a struggle to survive with the creatures that roamed the lands and the unharnessed powers that pulsed the ground. And for a time, it seemed as though he could not compete and would fall into extinction as quickly as they came into existence. But then the power of the ground was taken and made their own, mysterious crystals of great capabilities; man triumphed over the creatures of darkness and thrived.

In the wake of their victory, mankind advanced in strength and knowledge. They dug deeper and deeper with their minds and tools to uncover the fossils that would reveal how they came to be and the formulas that generated their being. And fossils they did find, formulas they did solve, but the further they went, the narrower the directions their findings unearthed became, leading to the singularity, the void, the Advent.

No school of study could provide the answers that would explain the Advent. It was simply what it is, that point from which being came to be, and as man would start to walk the face of the earth and build their civilizations and tools, the scholars would record it as such: uncontested, irrefutable fact.

Man continued to grow, building civilization and bringing life to the earth-born from the Advent. The power of the ground that won man's established place in existence gave rise to great things. The name for this resource varied as mankind expanded and diversified and how the resource perceived varied along with them. Dust, element, the elixir of life, philosopher's stone, the essence of the spirit realm, the aura of the earth, the names were as unique as the capabilities that came with it. Though it was unlikely to finish anytime soon, it was exhaustible, and attempts to recreate it have always left… some things to be left desired.

The null and void, the forgotten, the erased, the dawn of being, the beginning, they all pointed down to one thing in history – the Advent was the dawn of all things. 'Twas known fact in the world today.

And the gods help you if you contested this law of Genesis.


	2. Chapter 2 - Red is for

**Hello again!**

**So you will forgive me for my inexcusable time management skills, but I've been working on developing this story when I can, and it is currently undergoing changes in its buildup. I haven't uploaded enough for the changes to feel like they have deviated of course completely, even though the chapter may be very much different from the original.**

**Anyways, enjoy your read. I do hope you enjoy this. Don't forget to leave a review, dearies. :)**

Silver eyes stared out the classroom window and watched as a cow and raven were engaged in what territorial battle they probably considered its outcome to be tantamount to the fate of their survival. Blood was drawn and no doubt furious bird noises exchanged as the two avian creatures butted heads for the tree-branch rights erect their straw homes on that coveted space.

_"Will Miss Rose please report to the reception of the academy at the end of this period?"_

The thoughts of the silver-eyed observer were a thousand miles away, so far so that she did not hear when her attention was being called upon by her lecturer. The raven was winning this savage dispute, clawing for the eyes of its opponent over and over again. The crow put up a good fight, but it seemed to be that he was no match against her vicious -

'Miss Rose!' Ruby did not jump at the sharp call of her lecturer, but at the striking sound of her wooden board-stick smacking against her desk that accompanied it. The ombre-colored brunette hung her head, her red ears stinging from embarrassment at the attention put on her. 'While I understand that your time with us at the Signal campus is limited given your talents, you are yet to cease being a student here till you actually transfer to Beacon campus and so are required to pay attention in classes till you do.' The lecturer crossed her arms over her chest and gave the girl a pointed look. 'Am I understood, Miss Rose?'

'Yes professor,' she replied demurely, playing with her fingers. The teacher nodded and turned her back to return to teaching at the front of the classroom, allowing Ruby to stick her tongue out at her petulantly. A few of the classmates around her giggled, but if the professor was aware she made no move to acknowledge it.

'It is important to understand the difference between faunus and chimera. The Chimera Disaster of the Amestrian District can easily stand as evidence that disproves that Faunus DNA was bio-engineered into being. Their species is as naturally occurring as Dust, and while their evolution is still difficult to track through empirical research we must remember that their dignity as an individual is not diminished in the slightest by...'

Ruby sighed, the words of her teacher quickly droning off into oblivion as she and slouched in her chair and closed her eyes.

_"Will Miss Rose please report to the reception of the academy at the end of this period?"_

_..._

She was restless, her nerves were a jumbled mess, and it showed in her vibrating fingers. If they were brief, one could have called them spasms. If they were intermittent, one would call them the beginning signs of a convulsion. But they were not brief or intermittent; her hands vibrated continuously rather than trembled and she grew shifty as she tried to keep the rest of her from trembling with anxiety.

It was the ninth time in thirteen days that Ruby Rose would be summoned to Beacon - the advanced class campus - for interrogation, and the breather she should have gotten between each break were surprisingly few and far in between. The Inquisitor was unforgiving when she was cross-examining, and one session was enough to emotionally wring the young girl dry.

Ruby's eyes studied the hall of Beacon's eighty-first floor with shameless curiosity from where she sat. A place that was once as mysterious to her as the woods beyond the edge of her home, she now practically knew the top-most floors of Beacon tower like the back of her hand. The first time she had been summoned she had gaped unabashedly through the glass walls of the building's external elevator and had taken off exploring the floor, much to the annoyance of the Inquisitor. It was the same with the second floor, the eightieth. Very few people had reason to go to the last three floors of the Beacon tower – in fact, civilians had no business with Beacon tower at all. Contrary to the rumors that were told, the hallways were not in fact made of gold, the personnel were not paranormal humanoids and the Inquisitor's office was not a compact palace of ice.

Ruby could easily admit that it felt more like one with every visit, having been there enough times to know. She clenched her fist in a feeble attempt to get a hold of her nerves and chewed at the bottom of her lips as she sat in the cold metal chair of the floor's reception. She alternately swung her legs back and forth, her toes dragging along the ground as she did so.

When she was first summoned to the tower - shortly after passing the transfer exams and receiving her admission letter - she had been received on the seventy-ninth floor in what the Inquisitor had called the "screening room" at the end of the first corridor to her right. She had been nice enough then, or at least typical: straight-forward, straight-faced and not one to mince words or drag out time. She was an intimidating force in person and office, second only to the Headmaster in the administrative office of Vale's district, but then she seemed to meet Ruby's expectation of a direct no-nonsense person just fine. Ruby knew someone else just like that, but that person's humor and morals contrasted with the Inquisitor's as sharply as their hair colors did.

As the number of times, she was invited to the tower increased, Ruby started to be received in the Inquisitor's office on the thirtieth floor. The Inquisitor herself remained the same, but the office was cold and bare and it unnerved the girl so much that she grew to dread having such impersonal and austere conversations with her calculating host, especially when the topic of conversation was one that normally made Ruby's heart heavy.

Being summoned to the highest floor in the building that stood as Vale's symbol of strength and authority made Ruby agitated because it meant she would no longer be dealing with the Inquisitor. That in itself would be fine, but Ruby was now being summoned to the top of the food chain. Rumors were that her new host was essentially insane, or at the very least dangerously eccentric. Ruby dreaded finding out which was more accurate.

'Ruby Rose.'

'Yes ma'am!' the black-red ombré haired teenager shot off her seat and up to her feet at the curt and quiet voice that mentioned her name. Trying desperately to keep herself still she avoided the teal-colored eyes of the Amazonian blonde that was the Inquisitor, poking her index fingers against each other timidly.

'The headmaster will see you now.'

Ruby's mouth went dry with dread, and with great difficulty swallowed the lump that had lodged itself at the back of her throat. She slowly looked up to meet the Inquisitor's unflinching gaze. Somewhere along the last few days of their meeting, the Inquisitor's demeanor towards her had changed. In the beginning, she regarded Ruby with an air one might regard a child; necessary and bothersome but obligatory to deal with. She had interacted with Ruby dutifully, as it was required of her. But in the last few days, she had turned from "nice" to an almost vindictive prosecutor, despite Ruby's best attempts to come across as transparent and honest. She regarded Ruby as someone not to be trusted, a suspect. Ruby knew why too, and it made the girl just short of terrified. The teal eyes regarded her with wariness and suspicion. It took every fiber in the small and wiry girl to return the cold look with a beaming smile. She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound that came out was pitifully stranded between a laugh and whimper. She coughed to clear her throat, before opening her mouth to speak.

'Ouuu the headmaster! I've been moving up the ranks haven't I, Professor Goodwitch?' she let out in an almost incoherent ramble that she hoped passed off as one of excitement. She could not unnerve before this woman, she did not want to. It would paint her with the brand that was already hovering threateningly over her, despite her best efforts to shirk it: guilty.

Glynda Goodwitch remained unmoved in her facial expression, standing by the ornately relief-carved oak door that led to the headmaster's office. Ruby managed a laugh at the silence that was too tense to pass off as awkward, scratching the back of her head.

'I'll see myself out.' She turned on her heels and made to turn round the corridor and head for the nearest elevator.

'Ruby Rose.'

'I was kidding! Kidding!' the younger female spun on the heels of her boots again, her combat dress twirling out with her. She straightened out the wrinkles in her simple black tunic gown and curtsied with a plastic grin. 'Don't mind me! Still in shock that I'm being invited to speak with the headmaster is all!' she was still prattling when the sound of plastic striking ceramic silenced her. Ruby winced, wondering what was it with female professors and striking their wands so intimidatingly on flat surfaces all day. At the sight of Glynda holding on to her black wand, the skittish girl fell silent and walked with controlled pace and eyes trained on the ground to see one of the most powerful men in the district of Vale.

The Headmaster of the Valish Institute of Hunters-In-Training.

Once Ruby entered the office, Glynda dutifully shut the door behind her, leaving the young woman alone with the most powerful man in the district. She forced herself to look up, but her silver eyes met an empty mahogany desk. Well… it was not completely empty; Ruby's mouth watered at the sight of the gingerbread cookies and chocolate shortbread that adorned the table, her eyes widening immediately with longing.

'Hungry?'

The scream left her throat in panic and she burst into a blinding sprint, leaving rose petals in her wake. In less than a second she was on the other side of the office, her back against a wide collection of texts, tabloids and scrolls lodged in a shelf. There was a hearty chuckle from the voice that startled her from behind, and her eyes rested on a man who stood by the office door, stirring a cup of coffee in his hand. Her heart hammered in her chest and breathing was quick and heavy.

The man shook his grey-haired head and used his left hand to pull his brown tinted glasses down his nose bridge, his eyes peering over to assess his guest. He was dressed in black and shades of green, a simple black waistcoat over his emerald green tunic and a very dark green coat over it all. After a few seconds of observing and the occasional sip of coffee, he reached for the cane by the door and casually walked back to his seat by the desk. Ruby did not even flinch, but her eyes followed him till he sat down while trying to control her breathing again. He picked a stray petal from his organized desk and inspected it closely, marveling when it dissolved from his fingers into red wisps of nothing.

'I see that Glynda has lived up to her reputation and has left you coming undone,' the headmaster let out a resigned sigh and helped himself to a gingerbread. Despite herself, Ruby's mouth started to salivate. 'I apologize on her behalf; she insists that one of us must be strict to keep the district running smoothly. Seeing that I would not take her up on that – if not I'll lose the joy of frightening children like you – she has taken that mantle upon herself. She's got a good heart, I promise.'

'I'm sure she does, headmaster,' she flashed him a nervous grin. _It's probably just frozen somewhere for preservation,_ she added wryly in her head.

'Now, Ms. Rose,' his voice was a rich, velvety baritone and he gave her a knowing look. 'Sarcasm doesn't really suit you.' She hung her head in shame and played with her fingers as she let out a timid, stammering apology. 'No need for that though. Come sit with me and help yourself to the cookies.' He smiled at her even though she could not see him. 'Chocolate does wonders for the body.'

Ruby looked up hopefully, her eyes transfixed on the baked goods one again. She could not help herself, and she placed herself in front of the headmaster after finally leaving the shelf.

'I suppose you are right, Mr. Headmaster,' she admitted with a bit of hesitance, helping herself to a chocolate shortbread. After a few bites, however, she found herself stuffing her mouth with the heavenly-tasting confectionaries. She let out her gratitude in between mouthful of the snacks before turning red as she remembered her manners, but her flustered face and cookie stuffed cheeks only served to humor her host. Mentally, Ruby started crossing out all the rumors that counted against him, unable to reconcile them with the man she was sitting before. Surely a man who offered his guests cookies couldn't be a bad person, not by her standards anyway.

'Please call me Professor Ozpin, Ms. Rose,' he said with a little grin; the silver-eyed girl could only nod, with her cheeks nearly bursting from how cookie-stuffed they are. He resumed to sipping his beverage, observing the girl before him as she devoured the refreshments with astounding speed. It would have been a frightening sight to some, but Ozpin was merely amused by it.

He cleared his throat once she had finished both plates and Ruby blushed, letting her eyes wander the room to avoid his amused gaze. She at least had the decency not to slouch, belch and rub her stuffed stomach, even though it was all she wanted at that point. She let her eyes roam his office, from the neat stacks of binders, the stationary boxes, and figurines of four female warriors on his desk, to the map of the world, just left of the wall-length window behind him, failing to hide the childlike curiosity from her stare.

Ozpin was content to observe her as she observed her office until she recalled the circumstances for her being in his office. He was not about to be the one who would have her be so agitated again after just finally relaxing. He stared at her profile on the tablet just below the table-top of the desk.

_Ruby Rose_

_Age 16_

_Semblance: Fl__oral Velocity_

_Weapon of choice: Scythe_

_Current Academic Campus: Signal (set to change by the next week)_

_Mother: Summer Rose (deceased)_

_Stepmother: Raven Branwen_

_Father: Tai Xiao-Long_

_Sister: Yang Xiao-Long_

_Uncle: Qrow Branwen_

Ozpin let out a heavy sigh, which seemed to call Ruby from her wanderlust and remind her why she was in his office in the first place. The fascination in her eyes was replaced, not with the uncertainty of when she was first summoned by Glynda, but by the wariness that came from being summoned so many times. She hung her head tiredly and let out a small sigh of her own.

'Ms. Rose,' he began calmly, gently, resting his arms on his desk, and his chin on his interlocked fingers. 'I assume you know why you're in my office?'

'Yes,' her response was quiet but lacked the tremble of nerves or timidity she had come to acquire in such situations. She looked up to meet Vale's leader with her silver eyes, unwavering and brave. 'You want to ask me about Qrow Branwen.' Ozpin raised a brow at the composure of the girl before him, both surprised and impressed. Ruby smiled nervously at his expression and let out a short, high strung laugh. 'I guess it would make me very dumb if it did not occur to me by now, don't you think so, sir?' Her eyes met his briefly before they drifted to the side and rested on the bookshelf.

'He's been declared a traitor of the district.'' He replied simply, his eyes not leaving her form. His smile waned at the sight of her and she sighed sadly, wrapping her arms around herself.

'He's still my uncle,' she replied quietly and bit her lip. 'And I miss him.' Her eyes drifted to the man known as Ozpin, and they glistening under fluorescent lighting. 'Is that wrong, sir?'

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge. He took another sip of his coffee, and then set it down on the table between the two of them.

'No Ms. Rose, it is not.'

**And we are done here. For those of you who are here for the first time, hello! I hope you enjoy this story very much because this plot bunny is the first in one too many to be up here after so long. If you've read this and you're wondering why it's still this number of chapters, I'm just including author's notes and fine-tuning each chapter, not too many changes, but enough to count. You would do well to read again, just to be safe.**

**Reviews are always appreciated, loves. See you soon.**


	3. Chapter 3 - Yellow is for

**This chapter was much later published, but now I've bopped it up a couple of notches in an attempt to create more structure. Changes have been made still, so reading it is highly recommended.**

**Happy reading, and kindly review afterward. :)**

_The sky was bright and clear, the morning warm and windy. It was the perfect day on the small island of Patch to challenge her little runt of a sister to another race, to take back a title she knew she lost the moment the red-headed firecracker became a speedster to boot. She could always lord her superior strength over the little red demon, but seeing her pout after losing a tackle-fest wasn't as rewarding._

_'Ruby Rose!' the older girl, around nine or so, charged into the cottage's living room and pointed at the little cookie-eating fiend who was seated on the couch and watching television. The seven-year-old child turned curiously to her older sister, who was packing her unruly golden locks into a high pony-tail, with a mouth fool of cookies. The girl simply rolled her eyes and pointed at the smaller girl, in a declaration of sibling war. 'I demand a rematch to race you to the edge of the forest!'_

_Ruby Rose tilted her head, having stopped chewing to hear what her loud and fiery sister had to say. She blinked and then resumed her chewing slowly, watching the older girl's unwavering stance. It was strange to see such young silver eyes widened with the thoughtfulness of an adult. Once she swallowed, she set her head upright again, and then a wicked smile crawled up her face, revealing a missing tooth and her remaining dentition coated with smudges of chocolate and strawberries and cookie dough._

_'You're on Yang!' she declared loudly very suddenly, jumping to her feet atop the couch. She pointed back at her sister with determination etched over her face. 'I'll race you and run you to the ground with my more-super-better-awesome speed power!'_

_'It's called a Semblance, Rubes, Dad told us so,' Yang replied flatly._

_'Who cares what the adults think? I can name it whatever I want too you know!' she sniffed and raised her nose up haughtily. 'I drink milk.' She declared proudly as if to prove her point. Yang cleared her throat, giving her sister a funny look and Ruby coughed, resuming her former stance. A tall, well-built man descended the stairs with hair as golden as Yang's, though it was much shorter. He yawned, stretching his arms as he began to wish his daughters good morning, but then he blinked at the debacle that was a stare-off between the two of them. He sighed._

_'Take it outside, you two… please, it's too early for all of this, honestly…'_

_The two girls struggled to keep in their giggles at their father's exasperation, and Ruby cleared her throat._

_'Very well, sister! I shall race you and prove to be more-super-better-awesomer than you!'_

_Yang's laughter rang out as she bolted out of the cottage singing, 'not if I have a head start you, little runt!'_

_'Yaaaaaaaaaaaaang!' Ruby whined in protest, dashing after her. 'No fair!' the older girl only laughed, even when her sister had overtaken her by miles a minute. Ruby stood by the edge of forest waving and dancing and sticking out her tongue, and by the time the lilac-eyes blonde caught up, she was tired out. She fell flat on her face, and the little girl giggled over her older sister, bending over to gloat at her. 'Tell me Yang; how does it feel to not be as awesomer as I am, hm?' she grinned as the blonde murmured something into the grass-covered ground. Ruby leaned her ear closer to her sister's head, smug as the kid could be. 'What did you say, Yang?' she raised her voice a little louder. 'I didn't hear you!'_

_Yang looked up, squinting in feigned annoyance into her sister's beaming expression. She stuck out her tongue and an unreadable expression crossed her eyes. The older girl raised her fist back, and Ruby tilted her head to the side in confusion._

_'I think you're faster than me,' the blonde girl conceded and threw a hard punch. Ruby's eyes widened in surprise. 'But I think, I'm stronger.' Slowly the little girl turned back and found her sister's fist embedded in the exoskeletal skull of a creature of darkness, a Grimm. It was a Beowulf pup, not much bigger than Ruby, but the little girl could see the reflection of her eye in out of it pearly white fangs. The beastly mass of blackness let out a small whine before disintegrating into black wisps of nothing. 'So how about we call it even then and both be awesome, Lil' sis, hm?' The girl returned her wide-eyed stare to her older sister, and Yang wondered if coming out today was a bad idea if all she could end up doing was frighten the girl. But then the seven-year-old squealed in delight, much to the older sister's surprise. Once Yang sat up, Ruby jumped her and tackled her back to the ground in a hug, excitedly kicking her legs._

_'Ouuu Yang, you're so cool!' she sang out with glee. 'You're the most awesomest big sister a girl could ask for! You're best girl!'_

_'Nah, you're best girl!' Yang replied back happily._

_'No you're best girl!' Ruby shot back immediately, with a triumphant nod._

_'Nuh-uh, you're best girl!' Yang tickled Ruby and the little girl fought off her shrieks of laughter_

_'No,' she wheezed in between giggles, 'you!'_

_The blonde girl giggled at her sister's reaction and both of them ended up giggling and tickling each other as they tumbled across the lawn, arguing over the other sister being best girl._

'…no you're best girl… no you… I'm awesomest… no you… no dad… I'm playing… Rubes and me…'

'Now ain't that just precious,' the comment was as dry as the voice deep and raspy. But it wasn't the voice that roused the older Yang Xiao-Long from slumber.

It was the breath of the speaker.

'Holy fucking shaite, Godzilla,' Yang growled, without showing any signs of stirring. 'Ever heard of mint, Bobo? Or are chimps allergic?'

'Very funny firecracker,' the speaker was unamused, and the blonde cracked one lazy eye open to meet the beady eye of a primate-like being hovering over her face. Yang yawned and reached out to poke his other patch-covered eye, but he swat her hand away, his hairy hand waving across his nose as he made a face. 'Look who's talking, with morning dragon breath.'

'I'm not a bloody dragon, Monkey boy,' she growled and swung a lazy punch at him. Being wise to evade the blow, the speaker jumped off the bed and landed by the door of the bathroom on his legs, falling into a natural squat position. He crossed his arms across his chest and huffed, looking away.

'Could've fooled me,' he grumbled under his breath petulantly and stuck his tongue out at her. Without rising from her bed, she raised her finger in an unvoiced profanity, one the chimpanzee looking human gladly returned.

Yang blinked, staring at the ceiling, and then sat up with a heavy sigh. She ran her hand through her now long and wild unruly locks of gold, detangling the curls that came with bed hair. She thought of her sister and her father, and how close it was to a year since she saw them, growing wistful and nostalgic. The primate-like person, who went by Bobo, watched her in silence, marveling at the how the picture of delicate feminine beauty could so easily transform into the most deadly of men's bane.

'Take a picture Bobo,' she commented dryly without looking at him. 'It's a rare _Yang_-tastic moment you may never see again.' She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. 'Heh heh, still got it…'

'Bloody puns,' he groaned and clapped his large, hairy palms together. 'Get a move on Goldilocks,' Yang tossed him an annoyed side-glance, hand paused mid-comb in her hair. He made a face and shrugged. 'I'm just saying, you're the one with a bandit uncle–'

He interrupted himself mid-sentence, diving into the closet adjacent to him to avoid the wooden mantle that was thrown at him. The piece smashed against the wall into a perfect half, and she heard Bobo gulp in the closet. She hummed in satisfaction and resumed combing her hair, scanning the room around her.

The room was small, with the bed taking up most of one side of it. The floor was made of varnished planks of dark wood and the walls lined with olive green and hazel brown patterned wallpaper. The wall closest to the bed held a single window that showed Yang a glimpse of the world outside through its blue-tinted transparent curtains. It was a simple place, modest like the rest of the inn, and the woman who ran it. But it was comfortable, and Yang had not really known comfort in all of her recent travels.

Not at least till she met Monkey boy in the closet there.

With a long sigh, Yang kicked off the bed cover from her and stepped out of bed in a simple black and yellow shirt. She walked to the window and peeked through the curtains a bit. The sun was too bright for her though, she put the curtain back, then walked around the bed to get to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the closet without stopping.

'How did you even get inside my room anyway?' she stopped at the door of the bathroom. Bobo chuckled and peeped out of the closet, staring at the blonde as she packed her hair into a ponytail.

'I stole the innkeeper's keys,' he let out a rapacious laugh. 'Her policy concerning Faunus guests left me little choice.'

She sighed, knowing the Faunus was right. The woman who owned the inn had made it clear that Faunus travelers were to be separated from humans, to avoid "trouble" as she had put it. Yang had rolled her eyes the night before when the lady said this, but then she had not had a proper bath in weeks, or a decent place to sleep in months. And the relative Faunus stranger had agreed anyway, if it meant she could rest

'Of course you did,' she chuckled and shook her head, before entering the shower.

…

Yang stayed at the inn long enough to have breakfast at the diner, and she took her time to do an internal review of her life so far and the decisions that led up to the position she was in at that moment.

Last year, Yang Xiao-Long had become a huntress of Vale, graduating at the top of her class in physical combat. Her father and sister had come to celebrate her. It took a great deal of skill and intelligence to be conscripted into service, and while she never vouched for her intelligence, she considered her arms to be her trusted allies in battle. The graduating ceremony was held in the courtyard of Beacon tower, so the citizens of the district could celebrate their newest protectors.

The next few months counted as some of the best she ever had, and also some of the last she had ever since. Huntsman and huntresses were typically charged with protecting the districts from creatures of Grimm that were known to plague districts, specifically the northern districts that fell under the Remnant pact: Vale, Atlas, Mistral, and Vacuo. The occurrence of Grimm reduced as the Atlas territory blurred to make way for the northern territory of the Amestris district, Fort Brigs.

For the most part, Yang was sent on standard Grimm eradication missions in the smaller towns that fell under the Vale's jurisdiction, but was too far from the capital's safety. And she had loved her missions. Tearing through hordes of Grimm of all sizes with her fists and shot-gun gauntlets fed the excitement levels of the blonde adrenalin junkie and retelling the stories to her wide-eyed sister was the icing on the cake. Ruby would hold onto her every word like it was some gospel of truth, even when Yang herself felt like she was becoming one of the lecturing huntsmen back in Beacon academy, infamous for telling embellishing stories of his old glory days. Yang smiled and let the steam of the tea in her hands warm her face. She loved the thrill that came with doing heroic deeds, but she treasured how Ruby saw her as a hero.

Yang was truly one of the best, despite her notoriety for being hot-headed, a reputation that came with the by-effect of being regarded as not one of the sharpest tools in the shed. This, of course, wasn't true; while not book smart, she had a good head on her shoulders. Her reputation preceded her, and her feats started to catch the ear of the higher-ups in Vale district.

This was another part where "it all went downhill from here" would apply.

The nature of her missions begun to change, as did the people she reported to. Having to debrief each mission to the likes of her Uncle Qrow and Glynda Goodwitch was a part of the job description of an elite few, something Yang grew honored by, despite the issue she had with the missions.

Espionage, hunting down wanted criminals… assassinations.

Yang was not naïve, she knew that the things she did were necessary for a greater good, even though she wasn't privy to the detail of what said good was. She bore the responsibilities with grim acceptance, her small consolation lying in telling her sister about her new adventures. Or most of them anyway; she could not exactly bring herself to recount assassination missions when she found none of the thrills in it she normally found in slaying soulless creatures of Grimm, much less for her sister's amusement.

She also found that she could not reveal much of the nature of her other missions to Ruby either, because of the confidential nature of most of them. Another weight she resigned herself to, she had to settle for retelling the mundane part of her missions in the most amusing ways possible and also the fights and weapons used. Ruby liked things like that, and it was what her uncle had also started to do with them when they were younger – something she had realized when she found herself in the shoes he must have once been in.

Nightmares plagued her on occasion, usually of those whose blood was on her hands transforming into Grimm such as the Apathy or Nuckelavee; not only was she traumatized by the act of killing, but by the caliber of Grimm she now had to put up with. Yang never dwelt on these episodes though, never even gave them the time of the day. She was too grown to acknowledge the night terrors, forgetting their existence as soon as they were over until they occurred again.

Yang was, however, reaching a point where the only thing she wanted to do was go back to her home, to meet her sister and father. To trade stories with her uncle and play with the family corgi, Zwei. But on the day she decided to ask for leave to do precisely just these things, Qrow Branwen was branded a rogue, a traitor to the districts that relied so much on the integrity of hunters.

That day she had met the infamous headmaster for the first time. She had heard rumors of him being easy-going and pleasant, generous and kind. Word was that he was benevolent, merciful and full of compassion, willing to move mountains for even the least of Vale's citizens. Perhaps he wanted to console her, as a young and promising huntress distraught by the scandal caused by a loved one. Or at least grant her leave from her duties, to be with her family. All Yang had wanted was a break.

Ozpin had given her an assassination mission instead.

She drained the cup in one swallow, steaming liquid and all. Her ears steamed from the heat and she leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

Her first goal was to find Qrow, a feat in itself Yang recognized as fruitless from the beginning. Her uncle was no fool, he had long since ventured beyond Atlas. He could be in any other district not under the Remnant pact, and she knew this because he had told her himself before fleeing. She could not find it in her to follow through with the mission. So she lingered. Hunter's code dictated that a huntsman or huntress could not report back to the capital till the mission was complete; she wrung this loophole dry, along with her resources and peace of mind.

In her desperate attempt to let her uncle's trail go cold she stayed on the move long enough to have the Vale unable to sustain her mission any longer. On few lucky days, she found charity in the homes of the people whose town she had traveled by; she would spend a few days at most in these places, offering hard labor for their generosity. On most normal days, she was left stranded to salvage makeshift refuge wherever she could. When the number of hospitable hosts became too far and few in between, and Yang could no longer come off as a weary traveler, she was turned away by wary or hostile folk. Her reliance on her hunting skill became heavy, and game became harder to find. At her lowest point, she had started to doubt her uncle, then the district and then finally herself. She had started to ask herself what she was doing and why she was doing it and what point was there to it, because it had started to appear to be all for nothing.

And now here she was, leaving behind everything she grew up to believe to meet her uncle.

'Oh gods, she's actually thinking,' Bobo exclaimed mockingly, his arms flailed about jeeringly. 'We're doomed! We're all going to die!' before the blonde could retort, the innkeeper left the kitchen to glare at the faunus.

'Quiet now!' she hissed, waving her frying pan threateningly at him. Bobo simply waved her aside with an apology, taking a seat across the blonde young woman. The faunus stuck his tongue out at her receding form, then crossed his arms across his chest. He flashed Yang a grin, showing his wickedly gleaming canines.

It was at this point she met Bobo, a Faunus who did not reside in any of the districts under the pact of Remnant, but knew how it was run better than Yang knew her sister. He had found her at the back of a tavern in a remote town between Mistral and Vale, pleading with a kitchen staff to let her have the rejected foods that were meant to be thrown away. It was nighttime, and Yang was pulling at strings for scraps. The elderly woman had thrown a charred loaf of bread her way after being overcome with pity and Yang had caught it up in greedy hands. The chimpanzee faunus had been watching her for a while, before he stole the bread, her only meal in days. Rabid with hunger, she pursued him through the town and into the forest, all of her efforts to obtain food. She had pursued him with the strength and desperation of a hungry lion, and he had led her to a clearing. There was a clear, warm natural spring and Yang had stared for almost eternity, before falling to her knees and weeping.

While she had bathed, he had gone off and when she was done he had returned with food and the simple mid-riff orange shirt and khaki trousers she had on ever since, along with her brown jacket. They had made small talk, introduced themselves.

The trend had continued for a week or so, with some act of charity sent her way, followed by small talk. And while she was beyond grateful for the good Samaritan and his company, Yang had been suspicious, and if she had learned anything about people, it was that even the most seemingly honest conversations of small nothings held information; it depended on what one was looking for. So Yang started sifting through past conversations, and the ongoing dialogues. On the seventeenth day of their meeting, she had obtained enough information to interrogate him: "where was he from?" "How did you know so much about the Remnant pact districts?" "How did he know where she was from?" "Why did he know so much of her profession?" "Who sent him after her?" "Did he know her uncle? Or her estranged birth mother?"

Bobo had answered these and more, consequentially causing him to reveal to her what she now knew. And causing her to head to where she was now going.

All through Yang's internal evaluation, Bobo had watched with a slight wariness. He was used to her bubbly personally already; a reflective demeanor simply did not suit her, in his opinion.

'I keep telling you Monkey boy,' she raised her eyes from the empty teacup on the table. 'Take a picture, it'll last longer.' Her eyes crinkled in a smile. Before he Faunus could respond though, his ear was pulled by a random passerby, his red cap knocked off by another – the first's companion. Bobo blinked in confusion, then groaned out in annoyance. He tended to forget how bad faunus discrimination could get in these parts.

'This animal really is a nuisance,' the first one sneered, leering over their table. A third one stood adjacent to the table's seated occupants, ending up between them.

'Yeah. First, he pissed off the owner off this fine establishment,' there were snickers from his companions. 'And now this bodacious beauty!' he shook his head at Bobo. 'She's out of your league, can't you tell?' The last of them had ended up behind Yang and leaned to whisper in her ear.

'I'll treat you better than this beast ever had, alright belle?'

Yang burst into laughter. She couldn't help it. Bobo stared at her in amusement, till he started laughing as well. The four unwelcome guests felt their faces grow red as the two disturbed house guests clearly mocked them by their laughter.

'Hard pass kid,' she stood up and stretched out. 'We should get going.' She directed the statement at Bobo, who swung out of his seat and stood to his full height, which topped Yang's own by a couple of inches. Most times he was content with sitting or crouching on the floor like his primate counterpart for whose trait he possessed, and in that position gave off a highly deceptive appearance of being shorter than he actually was. He seemed shorter than even Yang's sister in that stance. He only stood to his full length when he wasn't sitting or swinging around – and of course to silence ignorant nuisances like the people that interrupted him and Yang. The four men gaped up at the incredibly hairy man and stroked his full boxed beard.

'No problem,' he responded, scratching the bushy mass on his face. 'But my cap?' their eyes darted to the red accessory on the ground, and then to the person who put it there.

Noticing their attention on him, he straightened his stance and growled at the faunus, his arrogance having been returned and any signs of being intimidated having fled.

'Pick it up yourself, animal,' he, and his companions turned to leave, ignoring Yang seeing as she was not interested. Bobo and Yang shared a smug look, and the faunus made a "tsk" sound, placing a hand on the brown-haired speaker who had clearly shown himself as the leader. He tensed under Bobo's grip but quickly turned back with a sneer. 'Get your filthy hands off of me you–'

'Ah ah ah,' Bobo wagged his index finger side to side, along with his head. 'Wrong answer, buddy.' He took a step aside and let the leader meet with Yang's bright smile.

As well as her killer knuckle-sandwich.

...

Human and Faunus kind.

As life born after the dawn of the Advent, these human and humanoids were united against the creatures of darkness that ravaged their world. But before the uniting, one could not really say where the humanoids came from. They lived in strife with humans and struggled to make as much their own mark as humans made theirs. And mark they did create, known for the single animal trait that set them apart from a human himself. The two were at odds before their destruction seemed imminent enough to band together, and after the worst had been overcome, enmity continued to strive between the races. Humans discriminated against this race – faunus – for their disparities, and faunus would spite humans in acts of violence from suppression.

Many wars were fought between these two races, with attempts for peace made and foiled time and time again. But eventually, things were no longer what they used to be. In different parts of the world, faunus-kind were regarded differently. Most societies had prejudices, some were hostile, and few just recognized the differences and lived with them in harmony.

Mankind was advancing in many ways, technologically and socially, and while conflict would always be an element of society, so would tolerance and diversity. Of course with the growth of civilization and development, studies were made to understand the faunus and better yet, their origins, but while their biological makeup was understood to the very strand of DNA, how their genetic makeup came to be is one of the few mysteries of history, almost as great as the Advent itself. But unlike the dawn of being, the origin of the faunus is discoverable. It just hadn't been found yet.

Many faunus anywhere in the world would agree that things were and would continue to get better, desiring to be treated as the equals they were, despite the physical differences. However, a great deal also held on to the scars of the wounds humans continued to make, propelling their hatred and thirst for revenge and justice. They longed to avenge their ancestors and to strike back at the prejudices that haunt their descendants. Their avengers did come by, eventually.

There is another name for faunus though, although it's not officially recognized by the global scope.

Chimera.

**Bobo is the sidekick of Generator Rex protagonist: Rex Salazar; he's regarded as an animal EVO for the show's series, but his human-like personality made it easy to turn him into something that would better suit the plot. The group Yang is currently using to mop the floor was team CRNL.**

**You're free to ask any questions, I'll be happy to answer the best way possible.**

**Reviews are always appreciated. Till next time. FSS it out.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Family Affair

**Happy reading everyone! To first-timers, welcome! And if you've been here before and wondering whatsup, I'm just fine-tuning the story. Bear with me a little longer, ne? ^_^ Be sure to read old-timers, things have changed!**

Hardened icy blue eyes were trained on the foyer below from the balcony of the first floor; the sound of metal against metal reverberated in echoes through the hallways of the manor. The owner of the eyes watched the snowy-haired teens parry in their sword fight, one hand rested decisively behind him and the other working fingers through his chalky colored locks. His eyes lingered on the younger male as he attacked his older, female opponent with furious draw cuts and ripostes against her thrusts.

The observer gauged the boy's form and footwork, and how quickly he parried off her attacks. A second almost too late, he barely caught her rapier from slicing across his face – an attack she was fond of using in an attempt to retaliate for the scar that was now etched down over her left eye. He deflected the blade with his saber and went on the immediate offensive. She simply smiled, almost dancing as she avoided his strikes.

The older man's face turned deceivingly passive as the girl waltzed her way through her opponent's attacks, her feet light as a ballerina's as she made him turn in circles, blocking what she could not avoid. Neither of the combatants showed signs of tiring.

Again, she made an attempt to scar him on his face, and as he quickly made to parry she dropped and spun on her heel, striking his side with her blade in what would have been a fatal slice. The sword lodged in his side, stuck in his protective leather padding, but he knew he had lost all the same. She knew as well as he did that her attempt to scar his face was one she would always make, and she took advantage of the fact he would use this knowledge to feign an attack and blindside him. He threw his sword to the side and raised his hand, conceding his defeat. Her blade had touched him first and they both knew the match was now hers. With a triumphant smirk, she stood up and they both shook hands. He avoided her eyes, reluctant to acknowledge his older sister's triumph.

A lone applause came the top of the balcony, and their father descended the stairs in his simple blue tunic shirt and grey slacks. Weiss and Whitley Schnee gave each other berth by taking a few steps apart. Jacques gave them both a chilling smile and Weiss hung her head as Whitley's face grew smug.

'Well done children,' he spoke with a stern, frigid voice, running another hand through his hair. 'It's wonderful to see that you haven't put my money to waste with all those tutoring lessons. It'd be a shame that a Schnee turns out to be mediocre in whatever they have set out to do.'

'Yes father,' the children chorused their response, though Weiss trained her blue eyes on her feet. Whitley smiled and bowed slightly towards his sister, determined to play to his father's good side.

'Fighting with Weiss is something that has always been so refreshing,' he said with a small smile, gesturing to his sister with his hand. 'The other students at the training center are all novices, and none of them offer as much as a challenge. With Weiss, I know that my skills are always far from dulling. She truly is a gifted fighter with her sword, father.' She glanced at him with a scathing glare, one he returned with a beaming smile and eyes full of spite.

'Yes son,' Jacques' voice was soft as he regarded his daughter with a cool air of interest. 'Your sister is truly remarkable.'

'Thank you, father,' Weiss curtsied, her voice quiet and her demeanor long since humbled under his scrutiny. She held onto the skirts of her battle dress a little too tightly for comfort, but then it was all she could do for comfort.

'You truly have set your ways in learning the ways of the sword, haven't you Weiss?' the hands that were folded behind him unclasped and he brought his hand to raise her head. She forced herself not to flinch away and she met his gaze. His eyes lacked the pride that was supposed to come with his words and he smiled. 'Despite my clearly expressing disapproval, you're set on using this skill as a huntress of all things!'' He sounded incredulous and clapped his hand before him once. 'Your resolve is admirable, child. Let's test how strong it is.'

Weiss could not help but falter at his words and she instinctively backed away from him, her eyes trained on the floor. 'Oh, father I could never–'

'Is that conceit in your voice? You're too good to duel your old man now, aren't you?' he grinned and leaned towards her. Weiss in return seemed to sink her courtesy into a bow, shirking away from the older Schnee.

'No father,' she kept her voice calm and lacking inflection. She had to keep the fear out of her voice, she had to hide everything from showing in her voice. 'It's the opposite really; I could not hope to you offer you any real challenge. Your swordsmanship greatly outclasses even the best of instructors throughout the district of Atlas. There is no way I could ever hope to stand a chance–'

'So you're afraid then,' he laughed mirthlessly and Weiss bit into her lips, cursing herself for letting her fear show. She did not reply, knowing her voice would betray her lies even further. His smile turned frigid. 'You went against my wishes and trained to serve as a huntress. And for what it's worse, you do not even plan to commit yourself to the district's military, you plan to leave for the district of Vale. Away from your home, from your family and your duties. Yet you have so little confidence in your talents that you are afraid to be tested!' He stood to his full height, dwarfing his second daughter. 'You will convince me to give my blessing, you will show me why I should let you have your way without consequences.' She looked up and met his cold gaze, and took every fiber of her will to keep from breaking into sobs. 'It's only fair Weiss; these were the terms I set for your older sister after all. She failed to impress me and in leaving without convincing me, she lost her claim as heir to the Schnee fortune.' He raised a brow. 'Let's see if you'll be lucky to keep that status, hm?'

Whitley stood apart from them, watching the exchange with a neutral expression. Without looking at him, Jacques snapped his fingers in his son's direction. The boy blinked, then dutifully stepped forward, bowing.

'Yes, father.'

'Bring me Herrschend, let's see if your sister's remarkability can measure up to best me,' he smiled again as Whitley nodded dutifully and hurried off. His eyes then trained on Weiss, who had pulled herself to full height and trained her gaze on her shoes.

Weiss held onto the sides of her dress so tightly she could have torn them. There was no way she could hope to even last half a minute against her father; her sister could not do it, not even with the arsenal of the family semblance of glyphs and encryption. How she could hope to stand a chance if their oldest sibling could not? She could not refuse the challenge, if not it would bring his contempt down on her, and his scorn was one thing the inhabitants of the manor, staff and family alike, loathed to bear. No, refusing to fight him was out of the question.

Weiss snuck a glance at him when he was not looking; he knew as well as she did she was outmatched. He was not expecting her to win, he was expecting to stay after losing. He was expecting her to choose her being an heir over being a huntress. She glowered at him and turned away quickly when he looked in her direction. She had her sights set, and she would not lose it.

Jacques Schnee nee Gelé was a ruthless swordsman, becoming one of the best through his sheer versatility with any number of blades. His skill made him one of the finest candidate's for Atlas military, but he had set his sights on to other greater heights, marrying into the Schnee family and working his way to the patriarch's heart to control the family wealth. Years of managing and amassing assets for himself did not dull his skills though, the failed assassination attempts on his life by organizations of the infamous White Fang had proven that.

Jacques himself had ensured that his children become adept in the skill and any other martial arts of their liking. But he had not expected them to start growing wings. He scoffed at the arrogance of his daughters especially, often wishing he could just give the title of heir to his last born – he seemed to have a sensible head on his shoulders. Weiss had the talent to succeed him, she truly did, but she was not as malleable as Whitley. Hopefully, the girl was not as mad as her older sister, and after she lost she would finally decide to give up on her romanticism of being a huntress.

'Herrschend, father,' Whitley reappeared presenting his father with his bastard sword, pulling father and daughter out of their thoughts. Jacques smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Thank you, Whitley, you may leave us.'

'Of course father,' he nodded and bowed at his father with a patronizing smile and turned to leave. As he passed by his sister he smirked and stopped to put a hand on her shoulder. 'Good luck, dear sister. Break a leg.' Weiss tensed under his touch and he raised a knowing brow, leaning in to whisper. 'You really think you stand a chance, don't you? Let father teach you who is in control.'

Her eyes narrowed at him, knowing his patronizing compliments of earlier had stoked an already smoldering furnace for her. Whitley was such a spiteful, vindictive child, molded to be in his father's image. He tilted his head at her expression and chuckled before leaving. In the distant background, the staff of the manor hurried in the hallways in order to be far away from the family as possible. They had seen the last duel between father and daughter, and they were not about to stomach another.

'Well then,' Jacques took his stance, clenching his left fist and pointing his bastard sword at his daughter. Herrschend, named for dominance matched against Myrtenaster, Weiss' rapier named for white aster flowers. 'Begin.'

Weiss dashed for her father, her blade pointed straight and true for his heart. Jacques used the edge of his blade to parry the strike in a weave. She jumped back to avoid his riposte and ducked to strike against his leg. Unfortunately, Jacques' blade fended off the strike and slashed up in an under-handed strike for her face, one she barely dodged before leaping back.

Jacques smirked and Weiss swallowed; he had been going easy on her and they both knew it. And as he charged for her, she knew that he no longer saw a need to hold back.

Rapier met bastard in a resounding clashing of blades, and Weiss' saving grace was her phenomenal footwork. It gave her the opportunity to make many attempts at striking her father, however futile they were against his reflexes. Weiss did not stop attempting to attack though, knowing that the only chance she had to last against him was to keep on the defensive. The moment she was tired out – because Jacques would not tire out, he was in his prime – he would switch to the offensive, and then it would be all downhill from there.

Anger and frustration spurred her on, anger at how stuck in his ways her father was, frustration at how difficult he had to make it for her to pave her own destiny. She did not loathe her family name; if anything she took pride in it. She wore the title as heir with more contentment than her sister ever had; she was not trying to scorn the Schnee legacy, she just wanted to build her own.

Barely containing a scream of exasperation, she threw a flurry of attacks at her father, frustration etched on her facial features. He did not break a sweat at the pace at which she set the battle, though he frowned at his losing all openings to attack. At least it showed that she was proficient at the art. He patiently parried off all her attacks, and once she slowed he took a step back and made for a low blow to her torso. At the last minute, she stopped the strike, but she had no physical power to fend his blade off easily. He shook his head as she widened her eyes in alarm. She had lost her temper and made a mistake.

This was the part where "it all went downhill from here" would apply.

The roles were now in reverse, and Weiss was on the defensive. Barely dodging and blocking his attacks, she could not find a way to counter-attack against his strikes, his speed leaving as little opening as hers had just earlier. Herrschend was not a sword that should overpower the rapier so, not in a match of speed, but it was for reasons like this Jacques was the better swordsman. He should not have been as fast as he was, the size of the bastard sword should have given Weiss enough opportunities for counter-attacks, but he was too fast. And strong. Far too strong

Whitley watched from the balcony his father had occupied before, worried for his sister's faring despite himself. He considered both his sisters to be foolish for indulging their rebellious streaks. It would be nice to be able to be liberated from their father's domineering nature, but it was merely foolish thinking to court the idea. Jacques held the power and strength, he had control; how did either of them think to get away from him? Why could they not take advantage and make the most of their situation? These were the mysteries that dumbfounded him and their foolhardiness made it impossible for Whitley to take either of them seriously as older siblings. It was simply foolish not do as father asked, and more foolish still to go against him.

Weiss was completely tired out against her father, becoming much slower in evading his attacks. Jacques tripped her and delivered his final blow. Lying against the floor, Weiss raised her blade to stop his attack from making what would be a head-halving slice. Struggling to fend it off, she grimaced at how overpowering her father's strength was. As the sword for which it was named, Jacques was determined to prove who held the power, to show that he could not be overcome.

Weiss' grimace deepened. She would not yield and her father was not going to get the dominance over her he so desired, not if he insisted on disregarding her goals. Both swords merely inches away from her nose, the hand baring less of the brunt was liberated to activate her semblance. A small white glyph formed over her grip on her rapier's hilt, giving her enough leverage to push back and send her father staggering back. Jacques' eyes grew wide with disbelief, and then anger.

'How dare you?' he roared indignantly, his eyes darkened with fury. Whitley paled at the sight of him. Their father loathed the family semblance, noting it as the stain on his image a Schnee by marriage, and not a purebred. He forbade the use of it during practice duels and when the first child had used it against him as an attack, he had cut through it and slapped her. It was an insult to use it in his presence as far as the resident of the household were concerned, much less against him. Weiss use of it was more ingenuity than anything, but it was still a slight that he would never take lightly. Whitley groaned and looked away, finding Weiss to be stupid for her mistake. 'How dare you use that cheap shot in battle? Do you intend to prove yourself to me by relying on that nonsense? How dare you?'

Weiss, rather than show the fear that pulsed in her veins, took a defensive stance and slid her hand into the pouch on the belt that held Myrtenaster. Livid, he charged at his daughter, and she threw blue crystals at him, igniting them with her semblance via her sword. The ignited crystals became ice projectiles, which Jacques weaved and cut through with deadly accuracy. Panic etched on her face when she saw that she had no advantage – even her brother was just short of terrified for his sister at that point, his fists balled up at his sides with anxiety – she threw the last bunch of crystals at him, blindly igniting them and looking away.

Her eyes remained closed as she waited for the hit that she was sure coming her way, but when it didn't come, she turned and saw her father frozen in place from the torso down. Whitley's jaw dropped in a mixture of shock and disbelief, instinctively about to applaud his sister for her astounding luck. He caught himself and stepped back into the shadows, knowing his father would only be further angered if he knew his son witnessed his being bested by the Schnee semblance. If looks could kill, Weiss could be dead on the ground, but as it stood, her father was temporarily incapacitated and she was standing with her sword drawn. She had won by sheer luck. She blinked, once, twice, then three times. She had actually _won_–

'If you think you've won because of your cheap bag of tricks,' the calmness of his voice did not match his expression. 'My dear you must be mistaken.'

'But I won!' she immediately protested indignantly. 'She couldn't beat you even when she wrote the glyph encryptions!'

'This was sword duel, Weiss,' he retorted with a scoff. 'Relying on your semblance to win your battle shows how far you are from good enough as a swordswoman, much less blind luck–'

'And even then, you are frozen stuck to the ground,' a sleek, smug and feminine voice came from the shadow of the foyer's corner door that led to the patio. Every Schnee in the room turned their heads in the direction of the source, all ranges of surprise shared between the three of them. A short, plump man with balding brown hair and a bushy mustache stepped forward first and took a bow.

'Miss Schnee, sir.' The butler then took a step aside, allowing a much taller and more mature version of Weiss enter the foyer in the complete regalia of Atlas military uniform – the navy blue tank top, off-white khaki pants and a tunic blue-tint white coat pinned together just below her collar bone by a red brooch. She took off her leather black gloves and handed them to the butler with a nod and a soft smile.

'Thank you, Klein,' she regarded him with a respectful nod, then turned her gaze to her father, 'I couldn't beat you even with my semblance, and we all know I'm the most proficient swordsman of us three. I'd say she's earned her stripes and has kept her heiress title unless you hold no value to your own standards, father?' she raised a brow.

'I see you've decided to return to visit your family then,' Jacques rolled his eyes at his firstborn, his fury hidden beneath layers of contempt. She gave him a look as smug as her voice and by maneuvering the sword hilt at her side slightly, ignited crystals similar to what Weiss used in her fight to melt the ice holding her father.

'Fort Briggs is the kind of place that makes you want any kind of company,' she responded simply, snapping her fingers to extinguish the flames once they had done their job. 'But I'm also here on business. General Ironwood is being received by Klein in your study, by my request.''

'You don't have the place to make such calls in this home anymore,' Jacques ground out, straightening his tie.

'Maybe, but I wouldn't want General Ironwood to witness your methods of… discipline on my account,' Winter shrugged casually, and her eye drifted to her younger sister. 'I also like to think I'm still your daughter or was I also disowned while I was away?'

'Hello sister,' Whitley called brightly, waving at her from the balcony with a bright smile. It was the most he could do to spite his father without further directing his ire to him. She responded with a dignified nod and a small smile. Jacques' eye snapped in his son's direction, and the younger male Schnee simply slinked back into the shadows in response. Weiss, however, could only stare with wide eyes, surprise written all over her face.

'Winter, you're here,' she breathed out softly and looked away. She rubbed the sides of her arms and stared through the glass doors that opened the foyer to the outside world.

'Apparently so,' the disinherited firstborn remarked dryly. 'Blind luck was your saving grace though, not skill. I hope you are aware of that.' Weiss straightened her back and stood to her full height, nodding sharply at her sister's words. 'Where you plan on going, I'm hoping that reliance on luck will change and you put extra hours into honing your semblance, alright?' The younger sister nodded again and Winter smiled. 'Well done sister.' Weiss beamed under the praise, relief washing over her. That was the thing about her older sister, the thing that made her different from their father, or her brother for that matter.

She was never cold. Stern, yes; dry and sarcastic, plenty; but for all of that, Winter was not unfeeling or detached. She could be ruthless, but she wasn't. The male Schnees rolled their eyes at the exchange, and Jacques cleared his throat. A smirk tugged at the corners of Winter's lips, but she kept her face straight as she turned to face her father.

'I'm sorry for intruding father, I'm well aware of my place in this household now,' the apology came out flat, even with her courtesy. Jacques ticked at the backhanded insults and gestures that his daughter kept tossing his way. She fought the urge to smirk at the scowl that he was failing to hide and bowed towards him as he approached her. She began to raise her head back up. 'Forgive the intrusion s-'

He slapped her before she could finish her sentence. The sound resonated across the foyer, and both younger siblings looked away. Winter balled her fists up tightly, her eyes unblinking at the sting on her cheek. Jacques sighed wistfully, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking his head.

'You may not reside here anymore, but this is still a home for you. You will always be my firstborn Winter,' he said calmly his lips curled into a wicked grin. 'And I can't disown you, try as I may. But you must learn respect in this household, disinherited or not. Insubordination is unbecoming, or is that how you act outside as well? You're a Schnee, and –'

'And you're a Gelé,' she ground out bitterly, her gaze hard and frigid. Jacques did not even flinch at her words, though her younger siblings did. He raised his hand to hit her again, and her hand immediately rested on the hilt of her blades – Liberty and Zorn – her eyes narrowed dangerously. The swords were named appropriately for her; Liberty for the freedom she desired, and Zorn for the anger that plagued her as a byproduct of living for so long in the home of the Schnee manor. Something flickered behind her father's eyes and he dropped his hands and she allowed an eyebrow raise. 'I doubt you would like General Ironwood to wander by in his impatience and witness just how disrespectful I can be, because I know would not. I'm his best soldier yet.' Once he let go of her shoulders, and she immediately took several steps away, hands behind her back. Not once throughout the entire conversation did she lose her form, even when she was hit. 'I'll see you in the study sir; Weiss, Whitley, good day.'

Weiss only whispered her response, but Winter nodded in acknowledgment regardless. Whitley did not move in the shadows, neither did he speak, even when she looked up and met his gaze. She held his stare and sighed after a while, turning on her heel and leaving. Jacques clenched his fist as she walked away, and his furious gaze landed on Weiss. He took a step towards her, and she instinctively took one away from him to match. This only served to anger him, and he walked towards her and held her by the chin. The act lacked violence, but his grip on her was vicelike as he forced her to look up at him.

'Well done daughter,' he sneered in her face, and her eyes trembled as she met his cold expression. The calmness with which he handled her was scary, even when he let go of her chin and pat her head dispassionately. He finally left the foyer, and Whitley let go of a breath he was not aware of holding, his hand clutched over his chest.

He left the shadows again and watched his other sister. At first, he felt pity for her, as she stared at the ground, knowing the familiar father-induced terror that was roaring in her head at the moment. However, his pity quickly turned to anger, one directed at both his sisters, unable to see their determination as anything more than glorified stupidity, the kind that made the most hapless of commoners earnest to rise above their place and salvage some sort of pride.

But then Weiss straightened her back and lifted her head, staring after her father coldly. She sheathed Myrtenaster and allowed a triumphant smile to grace her features, almost laughing even. The anger of the lastborn waned a bit for respect to seep through for his sister's pride. Of the three of them, Weiss wore the pride of the family name with the most entitlement and vestige, something Winter had retorted at her father bluntly when he had disinherited her years ago.

He was still compelled to criticize her fool-hardiness though, so he did.

'Honestly, Weiss, you seem to be as stupid as they get,' he remarked with resignation and sighed, shaking his head. Weiss looked up to glare at him, and he tilted his head with a half-smile. 'I'm being serious. Between you and Winter,' he let out a scoff. 'I wonder whose idiocy has fewer bounds.'

'Don't scorn us because you do not have the courage to stand up to_ him,_' she replied with her fists curled at her side, to which he only laughed.

'I haven't received so much damage to my brain cells because of my insolence that I would be dumb enough to be "brave" sister,' he remarked and shook his head. 'I'd rather be smart and see where that will take me to.' He frowned darkly, waving his hand dismissively. 'You go be "brave", let's see where it takes you, and a few years we can come to evaluate and see who is better off.'

'Whitley take your spiteful self somewhere else,' she pinched her nose bridge in exasperation, her eyes closed in annoyance. 'I have a lot on my mind right now, and I would do well to not be bombarded by your cynical chatter while I'm thinking.' The boy only scoffed and turned to recede through the doors behind him into a wing of the manor.

'It's foolish to not do as Father wants,' he commented gravely, and as he walked away he quietly added with a sad sigh, hanging his head and shaking it. 'I worry for the both of you, and what you'll make him do to you one of these days…'

Weiss heard him, even though he did not know she would nor had intended her to, and the glare that went after him softened. She let out a sigh of her own.

'I know you do…'

**Jacques sword is German named, as is Winter's second sword. I hope I did Jacques right, and I hope none of the characters are so far OOC. I'm always open to suggestions and encouragement spurs me forward.**

**Reviews are always welcome!**

**FSS is out.**

**Edit: EDITED AGAIN! Yep, 'tis a work in progress. Gotta invest in its potential.**

**Do you like the idea of the general story going on, and then background details being dropped after, like in chapter one? Please leave your comments in the review, I would like to know. And I honestly don't know how I've been doing so far, so a little hint on whether to go home should be good now...**


	5. Chapter 5 - Power Plays

**Still working on that p, updating and all. New Chapter though, slightly edited, bopped up a notch, completely replacing an entire chapter (and deleting it). Hope you enjoy, new readers and old!  
**

**Reviews are never not welcome. :)**

Jacques Schnee leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting between his firstborn and the administrative head and general of the Atlas District. His mouth was drawn into a hard, thin line and he brought a fist to his mouth, creating what was a picture of perplexed contemplativeness.

'My money is not for government funding, General Ironwood.'

'You have an obligation to contribute to the interests of your district in accordance with your capabilities-'

'I pay my taxes.' Jacques raised his index finger on his unoccupied hand, iterating a list of points. 'I donate earnings from fundraisers I organize. I endorse government policies. I pay land rent even.' his tone raised with slight incredulity at the end. 'I'd say I've paid my dues as an Atlesian citizen of the… upper class. So I'll make myself clear: my money – that is what – is left after I pay every due imposed on me and my company, is not for government funding, James.'

'Do not insult me and the government by implying that we're begging for your lien, Jacques. I will not take it from anyone, not even from you.' a prosthetic finger was pointed at the patriarch from across him before the robotic right hand curled into a hard fist. The older Schnee rolled his eyes at the gesture.

Seated across the ornately carved, grand oak desk was a man with jet black hair streaked by wisps of grey on the sides, combed back neatly save a few strands out of place. His face sported the stubble of a full-rounded beard. Dressed in the complete regalia of a high-ranking military officer, he wore a white double-breasted tailcoat accented by blue and black that was belted at the waist. A black collared shirt and a red tie peeked underneath his coat. His thick, dark brows furrowed in a scowl and his elbow supported the fisted hand on which he now rested his head, with fingers occasionally brushing the strip of metal – a neurotransmitter that allowed him to control his robotic prosthetics. Behind him silently stood Winter, whose facial expression mirrored the stillness of the statues that adorned the Schnee manor.

'I don't see why you need to be so difficult about this,' the general groaned, lifting to meet Jacques's cold gaze with a steely one. 'The Atlas District Council sits on the board of the Schnee Dust Company, and have a say in the company's expenditure. All of this is merely a formality and you know it.'

'May I remind you of the term "veto power" or is that concept of absolute lost on you?' Jacques raised a brow and folded his hand across atop his desk. He leaned forward to closely meet his guest's gaze. 'You're asking a lot of me, General, and _you_ know it.' He narrowed his eyes and James opened his mouth to counter, but the CEO of the family incorporation beat him to it. 'Fort Briggs is Amestris territory - under the Alchemy A, let me remind you. You aren't referring to Vale, Mistral or even that godforsaken desert-land Vacuo. You're asking me to funnel my hard-earned lien into unfamiliar territory. And all for what?'

'It's a good cause and you know it,' the general was just short from snarling, glaring daggers at the paler man in front of him.

'What I know is that my company mines dust from the region that produces the most dust in the world. Now trading what we mine is all well and good. It is fine,' he gestured one hand to the side as he explained his point and clenched it into a fist. 'It brings in revenue. On the other hand, funding a facility on research that is unfamiliar to Atlas or any of the other Districts of Remnant,' he waved his other hand to the other side. 'That is a risk. Chances of failure are extremely high, and that translates to a loss of revenue.' He flattened out his hand and made a swiping motion. 'That's a no from me, James.'

'It's always about the money with you.' the general let out a sigh.

'As it should be!' He declared ardently, spinning his in his chair to face the giant map of the Remnant Districts behind him. Winter allowed herself a moment to roll her eyes. Jacques's hands were clasped and rested on his mustache. 'It is to be expected of every good businessman.'

James Ironwood leaned back in his chair and glanced over his shoulder at his protégé and second-in-command. Winter let out an inaudible sigh of her own and shrugged. Negotiating with her father was akin to mining dust in the districts of Amestris – mostly unrewarding. To get her father to listen, you had to speak his language. Everything he said and did was a show of power, and without an appropriate response to check them, the scale of dominance would tip in his favor. It was how he thought, how he lived, how he operated, the gameplay that ruled him. How those power plays were dealt with directly determined the productivity of negotiating with Jacques Schnee. The General seemed to come to understand this also; he nodded at Winter and she nodded back, as if understanding, her mouth in a thin line.

'Point made then, Jacques,' James conceded. The chair in which the SDC CEO sat in stopped swaying.

'Oh?'

'Your concerns are quite valid,' the military officer continued. 'And you have every right to act in the best interest of your company and by extension preserve the Schnee name.'

'You've always proved to be levelheaded General. I'm glad you can see reason then,' there was the slightest hint of smug satisfaction at his tone, one that neither Atlesian soldier missed. James clenched his fists at his mouth, considering his next move. There were to ways he could go about this: for one, he could force the patriarch's hand into his favor. Jacques's position on the Atlas council mirrored that of the ADC on his board of directors, constituting a minority of little strong voice. There were also the moral grey areas the incorporation was fond of exploiting for corporate gain, a number of which were enough to litigate the organization and place restrictions that would ultimately not favor their business. But playing these hands would make an enemy of an already dicey ally.

He would have to play the diplomacy card then.

'The ADC had suggested a meeting, though I thought it better that you would outline your concerns in a more covert setting,' James ran his prosthetic fingers through his hair. Jacques did not speak, but he turned his chair at an angle to allow a glimpse of him to be seen by the other two. 'It is safe to say that it was a good call.' The Schnee nodded, stroking his mustache absent-mindedly. 'However, Fort Briggs District recommended sending an emissary.'

'What for? To convince me to compromise my profit?' there was a scoff from the chair. 'I thought we were over this-'

'No, to discuss the terms in which the arrangement would favor the SDC.'

There was silence, and Jacques turned back to fully face the general and his daughter. He leaned forward, an eyebrow raised.

'Really?' the question had a hint of incredulity to it, and Winter's face failed to betray how unimpressed she was by his predictability. 'Would you mind expounding? I'm intrigued.'

'Most of the details are classified, which is why you considered it a risk from the beginning, not fully knowing what you were investing in.' Jacques nodded at this. 'But by allowing a diplomat to delineate the details of the project, you would have the chance to detail the concerns you wish to procure a guarantee for.'

'You speak as though I'm interested in the project to begin with,' the snow-white haired male sighed and stroked his chin. 'Who is to say I consider the venture worthwhile? I can vote against it on the ADC and on the SDC board of directors. Even if I'm outvoted in the former, my influence in the latter still allows me to stay uninvolved in the project.'

'You're not wrong,' James mused and stood up. Jacques leaned back to take in the full length of the General. 'But Vale is showing support to the cause.'

'Vale?'

'Ozpin sees the need to establish these sort of relationships,' the general shrugged. 'And they've spoken with Fort Briggs emissaries. They see quite a gain in the establishment and are looking forward to contributing to the project. As I said before, do not assume we need your money. I was merely offering you the chance to be a part of something… pertinent.' He turned to Winter and nodded, before glancing briefly back at his host. 'We'll be on our way back to base now, Mr. Schnee. Thank you for having us.'

The patriarch watched him with an unreadable expression, his lips behind the clasped, propped up hands that supported his head. 'Anytime General,' he mumbled his response and nodded back.

'Come on now Winter,' at this the younger Schnee stepped aside to let her superior to descend the platform, tucking in his chairs. She curtsied at her father.

'Father.'

'Winter.' He nodded at her stiffly and she spun on her heels to descend the stairs, returning to the side of the man who was waiting for her. They walked on down through the light blue rug that ran the length of the study, circumventing the ovular glass coffee table in their path. Jacques watched their retreating form, the gears in his mind turning as he realized that the general had played on his ambitions and had lured him into a position wherein opposing him would only make the patriarch appear foolish. His eyes narrowed with irritation and he brought his fist down on his desk. The sound wasn't violent, but it was loud enough to stop the two from walking through the door.

'When can the emissary arrive at Atlas?'

James' left hand paused on the doorknob, and he shared a look with his second in command. He raised a brow and she nodded.

'We'll have to contact them first,' general spoke casually, waving the matter aside dismissively, much to Jacques annoyance. He gestured to Winter. 'I'll have her send you the details later.' He nodded at the SDC CEO one more time and stepped through the doors. Winter turned to her father, a satisfied smirk on her face.

'Goodbye father,' she shut the door behind her. Jacques blinked once. Then twice. Then he brought his other fist down on his desk with a barely contained anger.

'Damn it!'

…

'I fear his mood has been quite soured, Snowdust,' Klein spoke in a hush to Winter as he led her and Ironwood through the hall and to the courtyard.

'When you have him beat he tends to do that,' she responded with a small smile gracing her lips. Klein chuckled in a way that warmed the young soldier's heart and reminded her of the silver linings in her less than stellar childhood. She gave Klein a look and glanced at her superior, before leaning towards him. Her pinks were the tiniest of pinks. 'And I'd rather we refrain from nicknames in the general's presence though.'

'I think it suits you fine though. I find it endearing.'

The comment from Ironwood made Winter's mortified blush more pronounced, and Klein only laughed at her expense, before taking on a grumpy voice at his former mistress.

'You think you're too big for names now missy, don't you?' he feigned a scowl and she rolled her eyes. Ironwood was certainly amused though, and he shook his head. Klein flashed him a pleasant grin, before picking up the pace to open the doors that led to the courtyard.

Weiss was waiting for them there.

'Winter!' she ran up to her sister for a hug, but then brought herself to a screeching halt and curtsied at James first. 'General,' he nodded to her with a small smile and she turned to her older sister, repeating the gesture. 'Winter, I learned that you're leaving already.'

'Duty calls, I'm afraid. I'm sorry I could not stay to catch-up.' Winter's face was stoic and she watched her sister with a leveled gaze. 'Remember what I said in the foyer.' Weiss nodded sharply.

'I wish you the very best at Vale, Weiss,' James commented and rested his hand on her shoulder. 'I've kept tabs on you and your brother, you're both quite talented with your blades. I trust you'll make Atlas proud.'

'Of course General,' she curtsied again, beaming with pride at the praise. He nodded at her and walked away to leave his second a bit of privacy while Winter just gave her a flat look. Weiss inched a bit closer to her sister and then asked with a bit of hesitation in her voice. 'Permission to be informal?'

'Weiss, you boob. You don't need to ask for-' before the older sibling could finish berating her, Weiss enveloped her in a hug, taking the firstborn by surprise. She soon hugged her back, resting her chin atop her sibling's head and sighing. 'Such a dolt. Good luck sister.'

'You too, Winter,' Weiss whispered contentedly before pulling away, her joy written all over her face. 'I'll miss you.'

'Write to me,' Winter suggested like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'Message my scroll if you have to-'

'You prefer letters though,' Weiss pointed out cheerily. Winter smirked and placed a gentle hand on Weiss' head, leaning down to meet her sister's eyes.

'I do,' with a poke to the forehead, Winter walked off to join her superior in the airship, leaving Weiss to happily wave goodbye. Winter smiled as the engine started up, but then the expression faltered, turning wistful and she placed a hand atop her head. Weiss blinked, absent-mindedly imitating her, before realizing there were pieces of folded paper on her head. She brought them down for inspection and saw that Winter had left a couple of notes.

_To Whitley._

She frowned.

_To Mother._

Her eyes stung.

Instinctively she began to open them, but then cautioned herself and closed it back, sighing. By the time she looked back in Winter's direction, the ship had already to the air.

Her sister's leaving brought back a familiar heaviness to her chest and she walked through the front doors of the Schnee manor to journey the cold hallways back to her room.


	6. Chapter 6 - Of Accords and Stones

**DISTRICT AMESTRIS**

'We are but Remnants of a sinful, forgotten race! Repent now, Amestrians! Turn from the path of destruction from which ye have set! Do not mock the gods that be in the name of sacrilege! Repent!'

The Holy Rollers, as they were popularly known, raised their voices high and rang their bells loud, their red eyes vivid with a manic devotion to their faith. Pedestrians mostly circumvented them as they went their way on the traffic intersection of Central. Their dark skin glistened with sweat and grime from their evangelism under the morning sun, but they continued their fervent preaching of the Gospel of Remnant, their attention fixated on military detail that fate had made their audience.

'Can I kill him, lieutenant?' there was a sigh from the backseat of the military automobile as they waited for the traffic light to turn green. Driver and lieutenant Hawkeye turned her attention from her front long enough to give her colonel a deadpan stare, before returning her hazel eyes to the road. The colonel let out a small laugh and combed his finger through his dark hair underneath his hat. 'I'll take that as a no then.' He shrugged and sighed, winding up the tinted glass windows to shut out the incessant screeching of the foreign holy rollers. 'At least I tried.'

'You didn't seem to have a problem with advocating for the government to grant the Ishvalians refugee status and integrate them into our society, Mustang,' came a smug comment from the passenger seat beside the lieutenant. The second blonde military officer in the car met his commanding officer's eyes via the rearview mirror, before tilting up his stubbled chin and smirking.

'Forgive me if I consider myself a soldier of the people and advocate for the displaced,' growled Roy Mustang, absent-mindedly reaching for his own baby-smooth softly defined jaw. Riza Hawkeye caught the motion while driving and lifted the corner of her lip slightly. 'And that's Colonel Mustang to you Havoc'

'You've done it now Jean. Done awoken his deepest insecurity of lacking facial hair,' she commented dryly, her smirk growing when Roy glared at her. 'And I think granting Ishvalians refugee privileges is a wonderful idea, all things considered. Even with having to bear their extremists.' She sighed when the persistent cleric started advancing towards their car and as soon as the lights turned green she slammed on the accelerator before he could touch the car. The speed took both men in the car by surprise and Roy scowled at his adjutant.

'You could've killed him!

'See, now this is why I didn't tell you yes,' Riza reasoned, ignoring the reaction. 'Can't give you the go-ahead to commit murder if you aren't even willing.' Jean Havoc laughed out loud at this, while Roy leaned back and slouched in his seat, sulking at being the victim of his unit's amusement today. He exhaled and silently thanked the heavens only half of them were present.

'Laugh it up, Havoc. Laugh it up real good.' he drawled out bitterly, before glancing at the watch on his wrist. 'I feel like we've got extra time on our hands. What time does the meeting with the Fuhrer start again?'

'Noon,' Jean replied, stretching his arms and reaching for the cigarettes in the glove compartment. Riza promptly slapped his hand away and threw a scolding glance his way for trying to smoke in the car. He flinched at the sting and rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. 'You're no fun lieutenant.' he muttered before sighing. 'Did you get any heads-up on the nature of the meeting, boss?'

'Annual revision of the State Alchemy Regulations Act,' the colonel responded, straightening up and leaning on the gloved hand propped against the car door. 'As per usual, dealing with all the nutjobs and fanatics pushing against the legalization of the artificial production of Philosopher's Stones.' He exhaled through his nose, his eyes transfixed on the world moving past them. The inner city of Central was a commercial zone for the military residence, dominated mostly by pretty shops and kiosks with over-priced items of status and leisure salons of luxury. His eyes lingered on a small but pristine Philosopher's Stones dealer shop, reading the Dust Till Dawn brand name even as it quickly passed them by. 'Wish I could say I can't say I blame them, but importing them from other states costs a heavy dime on custom taxes, and international accords are tepid at best. We're just barely healed from the Chimera Disaster and we're still dealing with the moral backlash of the "Alchemy Pact Civil Dispute."' He stifled a snark at the last bit and sneered. '"Alchemy Accords Civil Dispute." Let the people who don't carry the trauma slap a fancy name tag on a tragedy they never witnessed.' Riza caught his severe demeanor through the rearview mirror and quietly sighed.

'Colonel, the civilians were never supposed to witness it. We chose to don that role and commit the sins, not them,' she said quietly. He grunted and closed his eyes, nodding slightly to acknowledge her.

Jean let out a low whistle at how quickly the mood of the ride had turned dark. He enlisted into the military after the said war, which was very recent in this history of the nations under the Alchemy Pact. According to many veterans, it was less of a war and more of a massacre as Amestris military basically pillaged the peaceful and theocratic District of Ishval in an attempt to force their signing into the Alchemy Pact. The attempt was successful, but it came at the price of terrible war crimes and murders of innocents. He did not know many veterans who stayed in the military after the tragic happening, but those who stayed worked hard to keep it from happening again. Plans to take the war to Xing - a District that clung fiercely to its independence and refusal to sign any pact - were overturned by those who stayed long enough to wield power in the military. Such as the likes of his boss.

'Sadly, the Ishvalians present in the meeting would disagree with our argument - if their religious extremists are anything to go by,' Roy said finally. 'The last thing we need is another sin on our hands, I agree - but this is not one of them.' He glanced at his watch again. 'Lieutenant speed up, Havoc's got a lot of processing work waiting for him at the office.'

'What?' Havoc's voice rose incredulously, and he turned back to give his superior who sported a smug look on his face a completely betrayed expression. 'Fuery is on duty today!'

'He was,' Roy conceded his agreement. 'Until you showed off your five days worth of defying military regulations on appearances.' He motioned to the stubble on his chin and smirked. 'Honestly Havoc, as a man of uniform you should know better than to flaunt what shouldn't be there.'

Lieutenant Hawkeye smirked as she stepped on the accelerator.

...

_**MOMENTS IN HISTORY - 2**_

Districts.

Mankind was at the peak of societal civilization. A long way from the scavenging, desperate survivors their earliest ancestors were, man and faunus now lived in villages, towns, and cities. Their settlements had a permanence that their forefathers' lacked, and enough of these settlements gathered together over time to form what was recognized internationally as districts.

When mankind first formed their settlements, they tended to exist within the proximities of other settlements that shared a certain likeness. These likenesses were dependent on many things: occupation, climate, beliefs, natural resources or academic findings. The idea was for a sense of kinship that existed between the inhabitants – not quite of the familial kind, but of the solidarity. More often than not, these communities pitted against each other to prove dominance or impose their ideals, and would only ally in the face of a common enemy. It was one of the many conflicts that gave rise to districts though, the biggest in history in fact: the Last Great War.

This conflict was regarded as so because any other conflict that followed it did not have the humanitarian, political, economic and geographical effects that the Last Great War had on such a global scope. It was truly a war of great historical value, with grand scales of positive and negative outcomes and fallouts. Settlements in the north were at war with those in the south, western and eastern played into these bloody feuds for their own benefit, but were ultimately being crippled from within by their internal regional squabbles. Many faunus banded together to cripple humans for the injustice they had suffered at their hands, and the minority of the races who believed did not believe in racial strife faced heavy persecution from their own kind and the other. It was practically a free-for-all brawl in a dinky old bar, except it was on a global scale.

The crystals were one of the many causes of contention. Some areas had them more than others, and different communities harnessed them, their powers and side-effects differently. Obtaining the crystals usually meant trespassing territories, which only contributed to hostilities. The energy resources also contributed to this bitter global feud in what was initially… an unorthodox way.

Eventually, there was a call for a truce. The militaries were tired, the people were tired and the enmity only drew in the creatures of darkness to contribute to the fill-out of the drawn-out conflict. Faunus were granted equal rights with humans, the land was redistributed according to definitive criteria and new varying government structures were put in place to lead the societies that ware founded in the wake of the Last Great War. These new societies were called districts.

Practically nations, districts gave their inhabitants global identity through citizenship. Trade occurred between these districts and in the past: war. Conflict has always been a part of society, but the worst of it would always in histories past. These other ensuing disputes would translate into outcomes such as the official faunus district, the district-neutral grounds of Vytal Island, the Republic, Providence, the establishment of varying specialized forces to counter each districts' strongest threat and so on. But overall, tentative peace reigned for mankind since.

However, there was a price to pay to maintain this peace, a contract to sign, and a pact under which these societies existed. Most of these societies took on this pact, each one unique to the set of districts under them, but few refused to submit to the conditions of any pact.

And this resistance threatened the fragile peace that the world desperately sought to keep.


	7. Chapter 7 - Out of Mind

**Back on track again, as promised. **

**Happy reading, and don't forget to review! :)**

'We're going to be late, Nora.'

'Don't be silly Ren-cakes! We have… 3 minutes and 45 seconds left holy shit - 41 seconds - Ren you're right we're late JAUNE RUBY WE'RE LATEEEEEE-' the breathless ramble was interrupted by a mouthful of waffles, and the ranting continued incoherently through rolls of chewed food.

'You could just take the waffles with you…' there was a heavy sigh and ensuing laughter.

The café was practically empty, having just opened to the start of a new day for business. The bartender was wiping down the counter, and a waitress setting up the tables to eat. There were no guests, save of course an inconspicuous group of four friends.

'We still have time guys. The docks are not far, and if we hurry up we'll be there before the guests get off the ship.'

'But Jauneeeeeeeeee! You can't rush Monty Waffles! You'll ruin the moment to savor its heavenly goodness!' there was a dramatic cry coupled with an exaggerated gasp, closely followed with another heavy, resigned sigh.

'Uh… if we're late we'll probably ruin our hunter performance records.' the blonde boy referred to as Jaune was at a loss for words that would convince her, scratching the back of his blonde head with a nervous laugh. 'Ren help me out here.'

The quiet, dark-haired boy – and owner of the exasperated sighs – nodded in the other boy's direction, tucking the lavender highlight of his hair behind his ear. He turned to the loudmouth who was responsible for all the excited yells and exclamations and cleared his throat. The girl paused mid-way in chowing down a huge bite of her waffle and slowly turned in his direction. She raised a challenging brow at him as if daring him to try taming her.

'Nora, these aren't the pancakes I make,' his voice was even and firm, making the orange-haired girl compose herself and blink up at the speaker beside her. 'They're not as good, are they?' she nodded quietly, her attentive expression resembling that of an obedient puppy. He raised his finger in front of her and nodded in acquiesce. 'Good. That means you don't have to savor them when we have other obligations to attend to, doesn't it?' she nodded again, blinking her green eyes. 'Alright then Nora, now hurry up and finish eating. Don't make us late.'

Nora dove into her giant stack of waffles with intentions to completely devour, much to the astonishment of Jaune. He looked at Ren, completely baffled.

'How do you do it?' he cried out in exasperation.

'Daddy skills.'

The blonde boy blinked, taken aback by both the answer and the flatness with which it came out. Ren's neutral facial expression did not falter, and Jaune leaned in to stare in the other's lilac eyes.

'Holy shit he is serious…' he whispered in slight awe. There was a loud burp from across and Jaune stared at Nora who had successfully scarfed down a waffle tower. She grinned and pumped her fist triumphantly. 'I'm never going to get used to them, even after so long.' He said to himself and smiled. He never really wanted to get used to them anyway.

'We should get going to the docks now, the ship is probably here already.'

Everyone turned to Jaune's right, which was where their silver-eyed friend was quietly seated. It was funny, the four of them had decided to go on the breakfast treat in her honor in the first place, to commemorate her successful transfer into Beacon Campus and the fact that they would all attend the same classes now, as the three were already part of Beacon. But yet the otherwise bubbly girl in the red hood had been so quiet she was practically forgotten. Nora started to open her mouth to say something, but Ren shook his head at her and she sighed.

'Alright Ruby,' she gave the younger girl a small smile before she and Ren stood up to leave. Ruby watched them go with a forlorn expression, then stood up to follow them.

'Jaune?' she smiled at the boy who was still seated, but the smile did not quite reach her eyes. He frowned as he rose to his feet, and the two of them closely tailed Ren and Nora, the latter of whom was being dragged to the docks by the former.

'Ruby?' Jaune spoke up beside the red-hooded girl.

'Hm?'

'Usually, you wouldn't let Nora's spirit for waffles get shot down so easily – not without a fight at least,' he let out the last bit with a slight snort and Ruby smiled absent-mindedly. 'And you were quiet throughout breakfast too…'

'Yeah,' she let out another distant sigh, kicking a stray pebble out of her path.

'Are you okay?' the question took her by surprise, and she halted in her steps, blinking. She looked at Jaune curiously, tilting her head.

'Of course I am Jaune. Why do you ask?' she smiled again, but they didn't reach her eyes. Ruby's smiles were megawatts, never failing to reach her eyes when they came on. Seeing them so dim and lackluster was something that actually worried all her friends, but the three of them had wordlessly decided Jaune was the best person to find out what was wrong with their little Red. They had been friends since the day they first met, bonding over the struggles of being socially awkward on the first day of school.

'You've been kind of down since you started going for the sessions at the top of Beacon Tower. We thought celebrating your scholarship transfer would help you but...' he began, trailing off when he realized that Ruby had stopped walking and was practically frozen. He leaned forward and turned his head sideways to look at her. Her eyes were wide and she blinked once, twice. 'Ruby?' Jaune called and waved his hand in her face. 'Ruby…' his voice trailed off as a genuine smile grew on her face.

'I'm sorry for causing your worrying about me!' she crushed him in a hug, and the blonde could only wheeze in an attempt to wave off her apology. She let go of him and let out a nervous laugh. 'Sorry,' she scratched the back of her head. 'I didn't realize I had worried you all. It's fine Jaune, really. I'm okay.' She hugged him again, gentler this time and he returned it with a sigh of relief.

'Huh, that was easy,' he huffed out when they broke apart and she chuckled again. He held her by the shoulders and pulled away to look in her eyes. 'You're sure everything is fine though?'

'Positive!'

'So do you want to talk about the meetings with us later then?' his voice had taken a positive tone to it, seeing that Ruby was appearing much like her usual cheery self. However her smile dimmed a bit at his question and he winced internally, but then she only shook her head and laughed it off.

'Your leader is A-Okay!' she nodded with an enthusiastic salute, before tilting her head to check for the other two ahead of them and change topic. 'Ren and Nora are already scanning the passengers for our guests! We have to catch up!' with that she burst into a sprint of rose petals, leaving the boy sighing in her wake.

'Wait for-' he began, but then huffed and hung his head in defeat. 'Ah who am I kidding?' he grumbled, staring at the ground. He pulled himself to upright and peered ahead at his teammates. Everyone looked back to normal, with Nora's overwhelming nature hanging like a comfortable cloud over Ren and his solemnity, matched by Ruby radiating over-excitement and positivity. She swayed on the ball of her heels as she scanned the crowds, snickering at Ren's predicament and teasing Nora. Jaune smiled at the three, then sighed knowing that whatever was bothering Ruby had not gone away but was now being suppressed.

'Jaune! You're being a slowpoke!' Nora sang loudly, loud enough for the entire harbor to hear her. He groaned and stared at the sky, as if asking for the ground to swallow him up, but then he just chuckled.

'I'm coming!' he waved and ran to meet them. Ruby may not have been ready to speak about what was worrying about her, but it could wait. They would wait too. But for now, they had a job to do.

'So Captain Rose!' Nora pointed at Ruby once Jaune had caught up to them, her other clenched fist being waved about animatedly. 'Who are we welcoming to the capital of Vale District?'

'Mistral's home champion: Pyrrha Nikos. She's a gladiator schooled huntress-in-training and she's being transferred here as her preferred choice to continue her field training,' Ruby detailed out facts of the guest they were to escort to Beacon towers for debriefing with excitement. Their guest was a very accomplished individual in her short years alive so far and the hooded girl did not get too far in her iterations before Nora excitedly noted that she knew of Pyrrha, with Ren admitting the same in tow.

'I've never heard of her,' Jaune admitted casually and shrugged, much to the surprise of everyone else's. Most people who did not know Ren wouldn't realize it, but he was surprised. Ruby's stunned silence was obvious, but Nora was the one who exclaimed in shock.

'What?! How?! Why?!' she lamented and seized the scraggly blonde by the shoulders. 'Jaune have you been living under a rock?! Were you locked away in a tower all your life?! How could you not know her?!' as she spoke with a passion, she lifted him off the ground, much to his chagrin. She continued to wail at the predicament, oblivious to his discomfort.

'Uh, no?' he wasn't sure what to do and he scratched the back of his head nervously. 'Please put me down.' The pink-clad girl obliged him literally, letting him collapse on the floor in a heap of lanky blonde. Ren poked him with his foot, and the boy let out a weak moan.

'He's alive,' Ren announced stoically and turned his attention to the offloading ship.

That was no longer there.

'Hey,' it was Nora who voiced his question though, tilting her head curiously at the empty space where the large passenger boat used to be. 'Where's the boat?'

Ruby, who had been too busy giggling at the entire debacle of her teammates, gasped and stuttered in surprise, before beginning to panic. She sped off, calling out to the vehicle to reveal itself. Nora joined her, and the two called out to see, pleading for the ship to come back to them. Ren offered a hand to Jaune who was still on the floor and pulled his male partner up. Jaune sighed in exasperation, and Ren calmly patted his back in gentle encouragement.

'Ren,' the blonde looked his green-clad partner in the eye sternly. The lilac eyed boy only blinked back. 'You need to teach me "Daddy skills".'

Ren only nodded sagely, the epitome of an infinite well of patience as he comforted his friend, 'in time, my friend. In time.' Jaune hung his head and groaned again, but felt a tap on his shoulder. Both he and Ren turned back to meet a girl sporting her fiery red hair in a ponytail and wearing a short sleeveless red and gold qipao dress on brown leather gladiator sandals with straps up to the knee.

'I'm sorry to disturb you two,' she smiled politely at the two of them. 'But I was told I would be received by a team of Valerian hunters-in-training? I'm not sure they're here yet though, and I'd like for a place to keep my things.' She motioned to her travel backpack and a long gold-colored briefcase behind her.

Ren only blinked at the perfect picture of simplified beauty, instantly recognizing her, but Jaune immediately went to carry her things for her.

'Of course,' he gave her his best grin with hopes to make a charming impression on her. 'Coincidentally, we're waiting for someone as well, but we can hang out in wait while-'

'Jaune.'

'Yes Ren?' the blonde turned around with a slightly annoyed, questioning expression. Ren gave him a pointed look and redirected him at the redhead again. Jaune narrowed his eyes, slowly turning from the girl to Ren and the girl again, faster and faster which each movement. The girl's polite smile didn't falter though Ren only sighed in exasperation. Realization lit up Jaune's face and he gasped, pointing at the girl. 'I know you!' the statement had Ren hopeful, but the girl's smile dimmed a bit, dreading what she was sure to leave his mouth next. 'You're the girl on every box of Pumpkin Pete's cereal!' he threw his head back and let a whoop of joy out at the heavens. 'I loveeeee Pumpkin Pete's cereal!'

Ren blinked and the girl blinked. The boy facepalmed and the girl laughed.

'Ah yes, that would be me,' she admitted to the charge bashfully, and Ren damned it all to hell, walking away to get Ruby and Nora. 'Unfortunately, the cereal isn't very good for you,' she confessed with a chuckle. 'Thank you for your help and it is a pleasure to meet you… Jaune, was it?'

'Yes it is, Jaune Arc, my dear ambassador of the greatest cereal ever,' he nodded to affirm her guest and she extended her hand for a handshake, her smile never leaving her face.

'I'm Pyrrha Nikos.'

...

'I like Pyrrha!' Nora declared, bouncing on her bed as everyone else went about their own business in the dorm room. 'There is always a chance celebs have a stick up their butt, y'know? But she's so polite and formal and friendly; bless her heart!'

'Nora!' Jaune hissed, 'you're yelling, and she's opposite our room!' Nora let out an eep and slapped her hands over her mouth, still bouncing on the bed. Ren sighed, resignedly cleaning up after her and generally putting the room in order. He glanced at Ruby, who was on her scroll listening to music. She was yet to unpack, instead of sitting on her bed and inaudibly jamming out to her playlist. He folded up the last of their clothes and stood up to take residence beside the girl.

Ruby was the leader of the four-man-team, she had been since their freshman year. But while it was not unusual for student hunter teams to comprise of students of varying campuses, it was rare for a student of Beacon to not play the role of leader if they happened to be on a team with others. Ruby was amongst the exceptionally few, and it was more impressive that she was leading a team of only Beacon students as well. The girl deserved the position too, with what her natural talent for weapon engineering and combat. The rest of the squad had no problem following her lead, and her bubbly, slightly awkward charm immediately endeared her to them.

The other three had been completely excited to learn that their leader would be transferring to their campus and turning RNJR into a full-on Beacon team, but Ruby's uncharacteristically solemn demeanor had put a damp towel on actively celebrating her good fortune. Ruby had insisted she was fine with Jaune, but once they returned to from their welcoming mission and Ruby turned down all of Nora's requests to join in the hyper-active energy-intense antics the girls were normally known for, opting to unpack instead - a chore Ren normally easily resigned himself to when she and Nora were concerned. It was this action that concerned Ren enough to worry over what he had originally written off as the nerves coming with changing social environment. Before he could make his way to her, however, Nora scattered all his hard work.

'Nora if you must continue to throw yourself up in the air repeatedly please do it from your bed at least,' he admonished with a sigh, crossing his arms when the orange-head had upset his tidying yet again. The girl sported a petulant pout, but all the same leaped from his bed to hers, before stomping out the door. Jaune stared in utter shock at how easily Ren managed her yet again, before groaning and following closely behind her. And Ren, now satisfied that his work would not be undone again, went over to sit by Ruby on her bed. She didn't notice his presence until he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. At the touch, she looked at him and smiled, before pausing her music.

The smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

'Should I be worried about my reputation as the most tranquil of the group? Or is this a one-time thing?' he smiled more at his statement than at her, unable to help amusing himself. Ruby didn't quite share the amusement though, slowly blinking in her attempt to process the information. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. 'I suppose I've never been one for puns.'

'Oh no!' Ruby said quickly, realizing that her silence had given off the wrong message. She laughed awkwardly and shook her head. 'It's was a good one, just kind of... out of character for you.' Ren raised his brow lightly at this and chuckled quietly.

'So the same may be said for you then, and your silence?' He pointed out, and Ruby pinked.

'Touche,' she let out another chuckle, before sighing and kicking her dangling legs gently. 'If you tried to make a joke just to cheer you up then I definitely looked like you all should be worried, don't I?' He closed his eyes and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Even in initiating conversation, he was still one for sparing little words. 'I'm sorry for worrying you unnecessarily.'

'Concern is not worrying, Ruby. Neither is our concern unnecessary, I'm afraid. But if you intend to have us do neither, then you would have to tell us what troubles you, so we can deal with it and help you move past it.'

'I want to,' she admitted, biting her lips. 'I actually want to cry about it really. But if I talk about it I'll cry and I know I said I want to but at the same time I don't really want to cry and talking about Uncle Qrow really works me up and -' she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth. Understanding dawned on the quiet teammate. Her uncle's status with the district was no secret to even acquaintances of Ruby, so he felt rather foolish for not realizing it as the reason why she went for the sessions at Beacon Tower; why the sessions drained her, why her general mood was dour. He stretched his arm out and pulled her into a side hug. Ruby sniffled and laughed. 'Ren is physically manifesting comfort we're all gonna die!' she mock cried out, gesticulating furiously with her hands. The quiet boy simply huffed a chuckle.

'Funny.'

Jaune opened the door and gaped at the sight; Ruby waved while Ren nodded before Jaune straightened his back and coughed.

'Your dad is here, Ruby.'

'And he brought cookies~!' Nora's head popped in through the doorway as she sang through a mouthful of shortbread.

'Awesome!' Excitedly, the girl bounded to her feet and sped out to meet her father in the blink of an eye, rose petals in her wake.

**ENTER TEAM JNPR.**

**Except they aren't exactly Team JNPR... heh heh heh. XD**

**I want to take a lot of liberties with this story, so I'm completely taking down the conventional structures of the canon that is taken for granted in fiction. The only thing I want to hold on to is their nature. That being said, I'm hoping Ruby didn't come off as OOC. I want it to be obvious that she's troubled enough to act differently, but not without changing who she is innately. And Ren... LMAO DADDY SKILLS I JUST HAD TO I'M SORRY. The dynamic between him and Nora reminds me of a lot of my relationships with many of my male friends, someone one day noted that one of them acted like a "daddy" (the smug seaweed biscuit had the nerve to agree. I KILLED THEM BOTH) and the element of the dynamic stuck.**

**Overall, I liked this chapter, but I hope it wasn't boring, considering how much action was absent.**

**Reviews are always welcome.**

**FSS is out.**


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